


Adventuring 101

by Chatvert



Series: To Rule Them All [2]
Category: Iron Man: Armored Adventures
Genre: Dumb Boy Emotions, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed, i hate these two they are ruining my life, rollercoaster of feels, stupid fluff, two dorks watch the mummy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chatvert/pseuds/Chatvert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene hasn't seen The Mummy yet. Tony aims to fix that. Set between chapters one and two of Thirty-Six. Spoilers through the end of season one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventuring 101

It’s been _weeks_ since the incident on the glacier and Tony is _still_ pestering him about never having seen _The Mummy_. He’s making jokes about it, just friendly ribbing, but Stark’s also got that glint in his eye that he had the first time he’d mentioned the Makluan Rings. It’s a look Gene’s come to recognize as meaning _this is going to happen one way or another_.

So all in all, he’s not entirely surprised that the weekend when Rhodes and his mother are due to be out of town visiting family, Tony has begged off with an excuse of needing to study (which Rhodes had no doubt been suspicious of, since Anthony Stark never studied if he could help it), and he’s even less surprised when Tony catches him in the hall Friday between classes and invites him over to watch some movies.

Any fool knows that means, in teenage-boy-speak, ‘spend twenty minutes watching a movie and make out until the end credits are over’. And honestly, Gene doesn’t mind that, for reasons that extended beyond making sure he could still use Stark as an asset. Somehow, hanging out with Tony makes him feel the most _normal_ he’s ever felt in his entire life – which is hilarious, because the two least normal people enrolled at the Tomorrow Academy (and possibly the two least normal people in New York) are Temujin Khan and Anthony Stark.

Tony says come over at eleven Saturday morning, so he shows up in the limo at 10:45 with a shopping bag full of snacks and some DVDs in his backpack and waits around outside until 10:55, at which point he knocks on the door. He can hear a muffled scrambling noise – had Stark really lost track of time? – and about fifteen seconds later, Tony opens the door, grinning and looking like he’s had four hours of sleep in the past five nights and has decided to compensate for it by drinking absurd amounts of Red Bull. “Hey, you made it!” he says, as if the distance between their homes was fraught with peril; then again, given the fact that they’d been kidnapped together on the way back from school a few months ago, maybe that’s not such an unfair assumption.

“Uh, yeah,” Gene says, suddenly and quite unusually feeling awkward. Luckily, his awkwardness goes unnoticed, because Tony immediately fixates on the shopping bag in his hand.

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Tony says.

“Well, I did anyway.”

There’s an awkward silence for about two seconds, before Tony’s grin brightens again and he beckons Gene into the house. “C’mon, let’s go get started. We have a lot of movies to get through. Oh, and lock the door behind you.”

Gene merely raises an eyebrow at the last sentence, but does as he’s bade and locks the door while Tony disappears into the living room. “How many movies are we talking here?”

Tony just pops back around the corner and holds up both hands, each of which have three DVDs fanned out in them. One hand is apparently reserved for the _Mummy_ trilogy – _oh God, there are three of them?_ – and the other contains only Indiana Jones movies. “Plus I managed to get the Scorpion King movies. They’re not essential, but they’re kind of fun.”

“You have enough movies in your hands for…at least twelve hours.”

“I know,” Tony says cheerfully, “isn’t it great?”

Gene is beginning to rethink this whole thing, and is also wondering if his interpretation of Tony’s offer of watching movies for something other than actually watching movies is entirely accurate.

“Sure,” he says, smiling anyway, and the smile actually looks like he means it. “Great.”

A few minutes later, popcorn and soda and chips have all been prepared and laid out, and they’re sitting on the couch, ready to start the first Mummy movie. “I think you’re going to really like this,” Tony says, bouncing in his seat, and Gene revises his opinion of Tony’s mental state from ‘using Red Bull as a substitute for sleeping’ to ‘can I buy some cocaine from you’. Maybe that’s just Stark’s natural exuberance, though – but he’s sure as hell on _something_ , whether it’s as innocent as energy drinks or as borderline-illegal as Adderall or as stupid and _definitely_ illegal as Maggia-funding cocaine. He thinks about asking, then decides against it. Why should he care?

He does, though. It makes him uncomfortable. He’s cared about one other person in his entire life, and look what happened to her.

Tony hits play on the DVD, and for a few minutes they’re watching the movie in companionable silence. It lasts until about the time Rachel Weisz first shows up, because Tony has slowly, slowly, inexorably been inching along the couch closer to Gene the whole time, while Gene has pretended not to notice. Once Tony bumps his shoulder, though, Gene pauses with a handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth, glancing at Tony. “Can I help you?”

This question is apparently not at all what Tony was expecting, because he tries to verbally backtrack and ends up causing a verbal pile-up instead as an entire library collapses on the TV screen. “I—uh—well—er—” He waves his hands in a flustered manner.

Gene smirks – he can still throw Tony off-balance with a well-placed word, which is exactly what he needs to know – and says, “God, Stark, what took you so long? For a minute there I thought this was going to be _boring_.” Then, before Stark can react, Gene has reoriented himself on the couch and pulled Tony towards him.

“Oh,” Tony says, sounding more pleased at being in Gene’s arms than he has a right to. He shifts around to halfway face Gene. “I was wondering if—”

Gene sighs. “I’m not stupid, you know. I know what ‘movies’ means when you’re at home alone for the weekend and you invite me over and have me lock the door.”

“Sometimes it just means ‘movies’,” Tony says lamely.

“But not today.”

“Not today,” he concedes, his eyes downcast.

“Didn’t think so,” Gene says, and Tony grins, a little shyly this time, turns around fully, and kisses him.

It’s not like it was on the glacier. For one, Gene sees it coming this time. For two, nothing sharp or cold is digging into his back. And third, but probably most important, they’re both relaxed. Given the way they had been situated on the couch, Tony’s ended up on top, which is…interesting. And not entirely unwanted. There’s none of the frenzy about them like there had been the last time, the intensity; there’s almost something even languid about it. There’s ancient tombs and scarabs and mummies wreaking havoc on the screen, and neither of them really care. If they want to see it that badly, they can always rewind.

Gene’s hands had been on Tony’s shoulders at first; they’ve migrated to his waist, where there’s a gap between t-shirt and jeans. Tony flinches violently at the sudden skin contact, and the hand he’s not using to support himself ends up digging into Gene’s hair, but he makes no move to pull away, and his grip slowly loosens.

“Ow,” Gene says pointedly, pulling back a little and glaring at Tony.

“Sorry.” Tony’s hand moves from Gene’s hair down his face, tracing it with his fingertips, brushing over Gene’s lips with his thumb. He’s _fascinated_ , Gene realizes, Tony’s _studying_ him, and he’s not sure how he feels about that. That sets his adrenaline pumping; when people are unusually interested in _him_ , it usually ends in getting thrown around the room by an angry stepfather in power armor. He tries to force his heartbeat back to normal, his breath not to catch, and he’s suddenly very glad he’s kept the rings in his pocket and not around his neck because the way Stark’s going, he’d have discovered them in a matter of minutes (and boy, would _that_ have been a mood killer). But the rings are his now, and damned if he’s going to let anyone take them away from him again.

“You’re quiet,” Tony says, brushing some stray hair out of Gene’s face. “Everything okay?”

“It’s nothing,” Gene says, trying to calm his heartbeat. “I’m fine. Are you?”

Tony chuckles. “Better than fine. This is great.”

“Now that’s an understatement if I ever heard one.”

“Shut up,” Tony says, mock-scowling.

“Make me.”

Tony does.

They carry on as they had before, largely ignoring the film (though some explosions make one or the other jump from time to time) and making out. This had been, Gene decided somewhere around the half-hour mark, a very good decision.

Ever since that one startled flinch, Tony takes to the whole situation like a fish to water, which surprises Gene, even though it probably shouldn’t. He runs his hands up Tony’s torso, intending to help him get his shirt off, and abruptly stops when he hits metal.

That’s unusual.

Tony breaks away, grimaces, and finishes taking off his shirt himself.

“Stark.”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have a nightlight in your chest?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Tony looks down at it, as though he’d forgotten that he has a glowing, protruding bit of metal in his chest. “It’s…kind of like a heart monitor, kind of like a pacemaker. You heard about the plane crash, right?”

The very little bit of popcorn Gene had managed to eat sours in his stomach, and he hears his own words from months ago ringing in his ears. _Your son is not my concern._ “Yeah, I heard about it.”

“Well...I don't know how I managed to survive, but I did. We kept this much off the news, but there was some shrapnel from the plane...did some pretty bad damage to my heart. So...now I have this thing,” he says, tapping the glowing portion of the heart device.

“Damn,” Gene says, stunned. “I'm sorry.” And he means it.

Tony shrugs, seemingly indifferent to his own condition. “Not like it was your fault,” he says dully. “Sometimes these things happen.” The words have the ring of something Stark had heard repeated ad nauseam during the days and weeks after his father's funeral, and something he'd grudgingly internalized. “Anyway. That's probably really boring, right?”

“No, it's not,” Gene says. He's feeling a little bit unmoored and the first faint stirrings of something a lot like remorse are pulling at his heart. It is a surprisingly uncomfortable feeling.

Tony laughs at that, a little. “You don't have to humor me. I should have said it was like a laser cannon or something because I'm actually an eerily lifelike replicant.”

“I shouldn't have said anything.” This is actually painful. It is actually causing him pain, and he is not okay with this.

“Hey,” Tony says, being weirdly sympathetic about this, and places a hand on Gene's face. “You didn't know.”

And inexplicably, that makes him feel a little better. Even though he did know enough then to cause guilt to eat away at his insides now. It’s a weird feeling, guilt, and not one he’s used to. But Tony’s absolution of his culpability in the plane crash, however unjustified, slows the gnawing guilt down a little. He’s owed the world, he _deserves_ the world. But he thinks that maybe he doesn’t deserve Tony.

“Come on,” Tony says, “let's get this thing off,” and tugs at Gene's shirt. Gene ducks his head through the neck of his shirt as Tony pulls it up and over, and suddenly he’s keenly, almost painfully aware of why Tony had flinched earlier. Tony can’t help but take the opportunity to trail his fingers up Gene’s sides as he removes the shirt, and that makes Gene gasp and squirm in an undignified manner; he really hopes Tony doesn’t pursue that and find out he’s ticklish. His glasses have been knocked askew and his arms are still halfway pinned over his head because his sleeves are all bunched up around his wrists, and this is the most fun he’s had in ages.

He rather likes movie day.

Tony adjusts his glasses for him and leans down to kiss him again, and Gene realizes that this is almost a complete reversal of the situation from the glacier. Because right now, _he’s_ the one who’s pinned, _Tony’s_ the one who’s in control. Well, not _entirely_ in control. Judging by the small yelp he lets out, he didn’t expect Gene to get forceful and a little bit bitey, nor to bring his still loosely shirt-bound wrists back over his head to trap Tony again.

Then they hear a noise above the sound of the film that makes both of them freeze.

Someone’s trying to unlock the door.

“ _Shit,_ ” Tony whispers, ducking out from under Gene’s arms.

“I thought you said they weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow!” Gene hisses, scrambling to pull his shirt back on over his head.

“They’re not,” Tony says miserably, somewhat muffled by his own t-shirt. Gene’s desperately trying to calm his hair down in the few seconds he has left; he’s had his shirt on and off, and it shows. Mainly because it looks like he’s been on the wrong end of a bunny-and-balloon static electricity experiment. No, the hair is a lost cause; he picks up the bowl of popcorn and places it very pointedly in his lap as Tony pauses the movie (like they were actually watching it; Gene realizes he doesn’t have the faintest clue what’s happening on the screen) and goes to greet whoever it is at the door.

Gene hears the door swing open and eats popcorn like nothing is wrong and he hadn’t just been halfway to second base with Tony. Then, he hears Tony saying, “Did you honestly just try and pick the lock?” and the answering voice, a little sheepish, replies in the affirmative. Gene nearly chokes on the popcorn he’s eating.

He is being criminally cockblocked by Pepper motherfucking Potts.

“I heard you guys were watching a movie,” Pepper says, and Gene actually chokes on the popcorn. He’s halfway convinced that she has a network of spies all around the Tomorrow Academy; that, or she’d overheard their conversation by the lockers, which is the only time either of them had mentioned meeting at Rhodes’ house to watch a movie.

He had to hand it to her; she was second-to-none at snooping.

When the two of them enter the living room, Gene greets them both quite casually, but doesn’t get up. He meets Tony’s eyes. Tony smirks. Gene is tempted to throw some popcorn at him. Track pants were not the best idea.

“Ooh, what’re you guys watching?” Pepper glances at the DVDs on the table. “ _The Mummy_ , huh? That’s a pretty good one. Have you not seen it before? Gene, I can’t believe you haven’t seen _The Mummy_. Also, what’s up with your hair?”

And she sits herself down in the middle of the couch, right between where Gene and Tony were originally sitting, effectively splitting them up.

If Gene didn’t know any better, he would swear that she’s doing this on purpose.

Tony sits down, they continue the movie, and Pepper leans forward, having confiscated a whole bag of chips. Tony and Gene look at each other behind her. Tony looks apologetic; Gene is smiling like a man deranged, showing teeth and everything. It would not take a genius to work out that he’s not pleased with this new development. Tony mouths “Sorry,” at him, and shrugs briefly.

But what the hell. It’s early yet, and surely Pepper can’t stay for the remaining five and a half non- _Scorpion King_ movies.

Pepper stays for the remaining five and a half non- _Scorpion King_ movies.

She makes Gene take notes.

It’s one in the morning by the time Pepper leaves, and Gene decides that staying over probably would be a bad idea. After all, someone had to lead the Tong, and as tempting as the idea of staying was, it was also probably a bad one. They exchange their goodbyes, carefully sanitized as the limo rolls up, and Gene adds one last thing: “Stark, get some sleep. Too much Red Bull is bad for you.”

“Yes, _mom_ ,” Tony says, rolling his eyes, but he grins at Gene. “Next week?”

“We’ll see,” Gene says with a smirk, and gets into the limo. Can’t let Stark think he calls the shots, after all.

And at least now he gets all the Indiana Jones jokes.


End file.
